


My best friend, his son, and their Christians

by 1000lux



Series: Does your journey still continue? [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Floki meets Heahmund, Floki's got issues, Floki's point of view, Karma's a bitch, M/M, Pre-Slash, a lot talk about love but now actual loving going on, comparison Heahmund Athelstan, history repeats itself, lot's of talk about religion, me shipping athelnar even after they're gone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000lux/pseuds/1000lux
Summary: Floki still remembered the day he'd killed the Christian priest, like it was yesterday.Can be read as a standalone.





	My best friend, his son, and their Christians

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own rights to either tv show nor characters
> 
> This can be more or less read parallely to my story _Christian_. It's set in the same universe. Even though, technically, it's chronologically earlier.

Floki returned from the land of the gods for the second time. The men and women he'd brought had been the wrong ones. Their faith was weak. He couldn't return to Kattegat, like those short-sighted traitors had went, running back to Lagertha. So he decided to visit his old friend King Harald. He and his brother had always shared Floki's believes and had treated him with respect. King Harald wouldn't oppose to some of his people freely following him to this new world. If Halfdan had already returned from the Mediterranean, maybe he would like to join him in the new world as well.

Floki recognized Ivar's ships immediately. He had built them after all. So Ivar had returned. And as predicted by Ubbe, there was war now, or there would be, very shortly.

*

Floki was welcomed enthusiastically by both Ivar and Harald. Especially the latter was happy that Floki would be here to oversee any necessary repairs on the ships before they went into battle again. They'd just returned from the first attack. Lagertha had been prepared but had still taken great losses. But so had they.

Floki wasn't happy that Ragnar's sons were fighting each other now. Nor was he happy that he was at odds with Lagertha. But still it was battle. And so it honored the gods.

*

Floki's mouth curled in distaste. He saw the symbol of the Christian god, which he'd never expected in this village. Not as loot, lying around in someones home, no, worn around the neck, over his clothes, for all to see. In a shameless gesture even the priest Athelstan hadn't dared to.

Floki watched the short-haired man who walked among the men like he belonged here, free, carrying arms. "Who's that?" he asked Ivar's bodyguard.

"That's Ivar's pet Christian." replied White Hair.

*

Ivar came walking towards him with as much of a spring in his step as someone with two metal splints and a crutch could.

"I have to show you something," he told Floki grinning broadly, proudly, excited.

Floki followed him, expecting maybe a newly designed battle tower, or some newly created plan for the next attack on Kattegat. They went, though, to the training area, where, despite the rain, a large circle of men and women had gathered, watching where in the center, ankle-deep in mudd, three men where fighting a single one. Their clothes were sprayed with mudd and dirt all up their sides, even though the rain was constantly washing it down again. The single fighter was just now swinging his dull exercise sword in an ark around himself, making the move look effortless in it's violent grace. The blade parted the rain, leaving droplets in it's wake, sending his opponents scampering back, one of them falling into the mudd as he lost his balance. A small smile stole across the man's face, a small tip-off how pleased he, who otherwise had only worn a mask of fierce concentration, really was with himself. He readjusted his double-handed grip on his sword and shook the water out of his face, then he parried the next attack, the forcefull clash of the two swords carrying through the rain like Thor's hammer. Floki didn't need to be introduced, didn't need for Ivar to tell him who that man was. The man who's cross necklace swung with him on every strike and turn, wood dark from the rain.

Ivar who'd watched the Christian's every move with rapt attention, turned to Floki now, eyes shining with exhileration. "Isn't he magnificent?" His expression clearly demanded assent and an equal measure of excitement, didn't even seem to fathom that there could be any other reaction. "I found him myself."

Before his inner eye, Floki saw a different pair of blue eyes look at a different Christian, many years ago. 

In front of them, the Christian priest had disarmed two of his attackers and was just now knocking the remaining one over with his own spear.

The Christian's eyes found Ivar in the crowd as securely as if he'd known he'd been there, even though his eyes had never strayed from his opponents during the fight. Their gazes interlocked and again there was the small tug on the corners of the priests mouth, a mutually shared smile of satisfaction, mirrored in full force on Ivar's face. Respect freely given by both sides.

*

They sat at dinner in the great hall, about to start eating. After Harald had given a speech and people were about to start eating, some sort of quiet had settled over the room. That was when the Christian priest, a bishop Ivar had called him, made the sign of the cross over the table and started to recite the words of his god over his food. No doubt desecrating his food, maybe all their food, with some Christian blessing. Immediately Floki started to make some counter runes. Around him, Harald only seemed mildly curious. And Ivar smiled amused, almost fond, which was an expression Floki before had only ever seen directed at himself or Aslaug, nodding along with the words of the priest, like he'd heard them before a dozen times, with a faint snicker, before stealing a piece of meat of the priest's plate, meeting the priest's indignated eyes and making a quick one-handed sign of prayer before shoving the chunk into his mouth.

*

"How can you let him flaunt his digusting belief in front of you, King Harald?" Floki asked later. "It's a disgrace. It's shameful."

Harald only shrugged. "He's a great warrior. He's done us a great service on the battlefield. You should have seen him. Ivar allowed him to keep his faith. And I don't mind. He's curious. Amusing. We should respect his god, for he's protected him in battle and brought him many kills. You don't want to make such a god your enemy, Floki. I know I don't." Harald raised a warning finger towards Floki. "Don't kill him, Floki. I need Ivar's ships."

*

"Floki. Floki." Ivar slung an arm around the boatbuilder's shoulder. "Why so glum?" Ivar grinned at him and Floki felt the urge to grin back, as it had always been with Ragnar. "I know you detest the Christian faith. I do too. You know that. But it is no threat to us. You don't need to take it so... personal. You know I worship the gods as you do. That I understood them always so much more than my father did, no matter how much the gods favored him."

"Yes, I know that, Ivar." Floki replied.

"Say, Floki," Ivar sat down on a block of wood, putting the tips of his fingers together in his lap. "Did the gods really tell you to kill my father's priest?" Curiosity lay in Ivar's eyes, mirthful taunt.

Floki squirmed a bit, twisting and turning his head. But he could tell Ivar, he knew that. Ivar wouldn't judge him. And the gods already knew. "I once thought they did. I'm not so sure anymore."

Ivar shrugged good-naturedly at that admission. "What's it matter now? He's dead. I didn't know him." Ivar paused. "My brother Bjorn, though, he loved him."

"So did Lagertha."

"I wonder why is it they all loved him so much." Ivar shrugged again. "He was weak."

"He fought with us in Wessex. He translated when we were in England. He was useful." It irked him. Even after all these years, it still irked him to admit that the priest had had any worth at all. "But Ragnar didn't love him for what he could do for him. He loved him for who he was."

"A Christian?!" Ivar let out a bark of a laugh.

"No," Floki shook his head with a mild smile, realising again how young Ivar still was and how little he knew of the world. But what a world it was where Ragnar was dead and Rollo had found happiness with a Christian princess, renouncing his faith, fullfilling what Floki had feared and prophecied back then when Rollo'd taken the baptism in the river. What a world it was in which Ragnar had followed his priest into the afterlife and his son had brought another to them. And Floki could almost see Loki standing there at the fringe of trees in the distance, laughing at him over the neat trick he'd played on him. And maybe he'd deserved it for having claimed the will of the gods when it hadn't been. They had shown him their land only to send him back here to find that the Christian god had infected his home once more. But this one's wasn't the kind and forgiving god Athelstan had been talking about. The one who forgave and let his enemies slay him. This was the one from what Ragnar had told him was the old book. The god the new priest had brought with him was a vengeful one, a powerful one. And Floki, who'd been worshipping his gods for so long, who saw himself as a priest of the true faith, living the way the gods wanted him to, he saw that man, that bishop, and when he looked into his eyes and saw the fire burning there, recognized him as a priest as powerful as himself. His belief was strong and so was his god. And deep down, only just a little, Floki feared him.  
Floki shook himself, drawing a rune into the air. He'd forgotten all about Ivar and now turned his gaze back to him, who was still looking at him expectantly and curious, like he was seeing what Floki was seeing. "No," he repeated. "He loved him for the same reason he loved Lagertha. He loved him because he loved him. He saw something in him..."

"Is it true that my father got baptised in Frankia?"

"Yes. It was a list, to get into the city of Paris." But is had been more than that. Ragnar had done it because even in death he couldn't let go of his priest, had once more chosen Athelstan over Floki, over his whole family. And Floki thought, had Athelstan lived a little longer, maybe Ragnar would have renounced his faith for him, taken on the Christian god. For there seemed very little Ragnar wasn't willing to do for him. Floki had been so angry. Many, many years, so angry with Ragnar. But after the priest's death, after some years had passed, Floki had realised that he'd taken so much more from Ragnar than Ragnar had taken from him. Ragnar hadn't been the same, after the priest's death. Had never been the same again.

"...worked?" Floki was ripped out of his thoughts by Ivar's voice.

"What?"

"Do you think it worked? Can you wash it off again, this baptism?" Ivar laughed. "I'll have to ask Heahmund. I wonder what he'll have to say to that." Ivar laughed again. "How could my father do something so dumb? My Christian will be with me in Valhalla." he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

*

"Your Valhalla, doesn't exist." Heahmund said in a scathing voice. "You're going to suffer eternal damnation in hell, like all the other heathens who refused the word of the Lord when it was offered to them."

Floki was taken aback for a second. "I killed one like you," he then said, pointing a finger at the bishop.

The bishop ignored Floki's invasive gesture, holding his gaze. "He's in heaven now, with his maker."

Floki chuckled. "I don't think he is. See, he killed Christians."

Heahmund blanched a little. "That's a terrible sin. But who is without sin shall cast the first stone. If he heartfeltly repented and begged God for forgiveness I am sure he will have received it. For I am sure whatever sin he committed was out of the dire circumstances he found himself in, among your people."

"Oh, priest, you have know idea at all, do you? Didn't Aethelwulf tell you about the priest his father, King Ecbert –you remember him, the one Ivar killed and left in a barrel– favored, who chose to return with Ragnar Lothbrok? But, don't worry. I will tell you. He was brought here by Ragnar, much like Ivar brought you. And soon, soon he was just like us. And he chose Ragnar over his own people." Floki moved his face close to the bishop's. "Watch your faith, priest. Watch your faith."

*

Only a few days later, Heahmund was all that got Ivar back alive from a battle with Lagertha's army. Floki, while still fighting himself, saw the priest ride through the men, Ivar slung across his horse, the priest as always corvered in gore, his sword swinging and cutting down everything in his way. And Floki was grateful that Ivar was alive, as he'd seen him go down and vanish between the fighting masses, but he was angry too. 

And later after they'd returned to camp, he saw the others coming to Heahmund, patting him on the back, giving him words of praise and respect for his achievements in battle. And Floki thought, no, this man wasn't anything like Athelstan. And if Athelstan had been like him, Ragnar wouldn't have loved him as he did. But since this was Ivar, Floki knew he would love him as Ragnar had loved Athelstan.

*

Floki lay outside by his ships, staring at the night sky that had cleared since the storm during the day.

"Ah, Ragnar," he said. "You are laughing at me right now, aren't you? And you'll be laughing at me when I'm sitting in Valhalla all by myself while you're with your Christian in his heaven, mimicking his prayers and crossing yourself in front of the angels and this Jesus, like it means anything to you. Oh, I'll be very alone then, Ragnar. And I am alone now. Are the gods punishing my arrogance? Or is it that they love you so much that they still haven't forgiven me for taking him away from you?" Floki sighed. "Ivar is your son ideed, the one who's most like you of all of them. Maybe that's why I always loved him the most."


End file.
